Chicken fight

A water sport beloved of anyone with hormones still stirring in their body. Nothing says hot summer-lovin' like the smell of suntan lotion and making new friends fast with a good old-fashioned chicken fight. Not only does this provide a venue for new or renewed intimacy with a beau or prospective partner etc., but it is an excellent opportunity to ceremoniously punk that girl/boy with whom you secretly have your competitive itch-on. Oh yeah, you know who they are...

Typically participant teams are male-female, though naturally in this day and age, anything goes. The bottom participant's job is to navigate around the pool / lake / surf etc. with their mount so as to take advantage of terrain / water depth and thus be able to balance the whirling dervish perched on their shoulders. They are not to engage the bottom participant of the competing pair. The top participant's job is to stay atop their mount and propel the rival pair's top into the water, knocking them off the shoulders of their partner. There should be no unnecessary girlie roughness such as scratching, hair pulling, slapping or general catfight type manuevers. This is more of a grappling exchange, so balance and flexibility is very important.

There's nothing like promptly grabbing your rival by the shoulders and applying the people's elbow, directing them off their perch to the perilous waters below... I'll have to admit that despite all my beloved youthful interludes of wrestling with boys (which does not count) a chicken fight is the closest thing to a real fight I have ever been in. However, there are few things so gloriously delicious as having obliterated every other challenger in the water. I can only hope you experience it at least once in your lifetime. For me it was a band trip in high school. Not only was Nike on my side granting me the reputation of an aquatic badass but I bagged a handsome redheaded bugler who was my erstwhile team mate as well. We were totally unstoppable and crushed all the competition in a pool teeming with kids. He was tall, strong and steady beneath me and I was merciless. Ah... the thrill of victory!

Some tips for dominating the chicken fight arena...

Grease up, tops - it helps if you're slippery... so you are less easy to get a hold of, just don't do the legs... bring out the baby oil

Depending on your venue choose your partner wisely based on the terrain and the competition... there are many aspects to consider here, height, body type, center of gravity, IQ, sense of humour, adherence to your sexual template etc.

Just like in the movies, you have to hack and slash your way through the lesser competitors before you sally up to the alpha couple. Scope out your true competition as soon as possible and be sure to engage them when conditions are favorable...

Throughout all of my memories of elementary school, nothing sticks out in my mind quite as much as the old monkey bars that used to be there. You could, for example, crawl across the top, as this was the type of playground set that was still wooden; fall from them the wrong way, and get a mouthful of sand, instead of woodchips. But I digress...

To assert one's dominance in the particular playground I remember, one had to be good at two things: Tag and chicken fights. With tag, one just had to be fast and be able to anticipate where their quarry would be headed. The chicken fight, of course, required a wholly different set of skills. One had to be strong in both arm and leg, and have a reasonably high tolerance for pain. Speed wasn't necessarily an important attribute for the developing chicken fighter, but it could help in certain cases. But, the kind reader asks, how is this game played?

The opponents are placed on opposing sides of a set of monkey bars. At a predetermined start signal, both players make their way towards the other. Upon the eventual meeting of the two players, a battle is waged with kicks and whatever else is needed to try and have the other player drop first. One could, for example, wrap their legs around their opponent and try and pull them off that way. (Of course, there was a sort of playgroundhonor code followed by all that guaranteed that no participant would get hit in any tender areas.) Once the loser fell to the sand (usually feet first, thanks to the nature of the game), the winner was allowed a brief gloating period before the next challenger stepped up to the plate.

Simple? Sure. Us kids were so much easier placated back in the good ol' days.